


to build a home

by citrusflower



Category: Dreamcatcher (Korea Band)
Genre: 2Yoo - Freeform, Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Fashion & Models, Childhood Friends to Lovers, F/F, Friends to Lovers, Los Angeles, Pining, Repression, Slow Burn, eyy party time, u ever just fall in love with ur best friend lmao
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-11
Updated: 2020-07-11
Packaged: 2021-03-05 02:14:15
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,382
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25196761
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/citrusflower/pseuds/citrusflower
Summary: Yoohyeon’s head lolls onto Yubin’s neck as they walk into the lobby, as Yubin asks her for the floor in the elevator, as Yoohyeon digs into her clutch for the key card in front of her room and presses it into Yubin’s hand, her mouth smelling faintly of champagne when she whispersThank you, her voice small like it’s hiding a secret.
Relationships: Kim Yoohyeon/Lee Yoobin | Dami
Comments: 42
Kudos: 86





	to build a home

**Author's Note:**

  * For [ephemeraldt](https://archiveofourown.org/users/ephemeraldt/gifts).



> wrote this because i love 2yoo and because i have been thinking about childhood friends au where yoohyeon becomes a model and dami becomes a rapper and there’s distance but they meet again. and because california! this is so full of california references i apologize.
> 
> the specific vibe for this is [this cover of “beautiful people”](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=asBfEzNA8UE) and also vaguely [ariana grande’s “imagine”](https://open.spotify.com/track/39LmTF9RgyakzSYX8txrow?si=JY0z-ITURmWBi2NSAcasIg). this was written to a loop of the cinematic orchestra’s “to build a home” (i know), banks’ “crowded places”, and BROCKHAMPTON’s “HOME”. playlist [here](https://open.spotify.com/playlist/00yZZESkESho1eVGipSSaT?si=qqTOF0xfQiW8Mx2rIV12Sg).
> 
> title quotes the song of the same name by the cinematic orchestra.
> 
> for ephe <3 <3 <3

_Send me to California_

_I’m tryna get so lost_

— BROCKHAMPTON, “HOME”

The show is near a museum. _LA-KE-MA_ , Yubin sounds out, rolling the syllables around in her mouth as she types in the address on Uber. It feels like America is full of acronyms.

In the car, she scrolls through her texts. Sends a thumbs up to Sooyoon; replies _Yes, I’m fine_ to Minji; checks in with her brother, her mom. Pauses, thumb hovering above her conversation with Yoohyeon, the last message: _see u soon! can’t wait <3\. _

  
  
  
  
  


“It will be good for you,” Sooyoon had said, looking across the desk at Yubin in her crowded office. “You already rap a little in English, and L.A. is strategic.” She’d ticked the points off on her fingers.

Yubin liked Sooyoon, manager-producer-mentor all rolled into one, her wild hair shot through with platinum blonde. An industry veteran, used to being unconventional. Someone who felt safe.

She nodded slowly. “As long as the funds are there.”

“It’s a worthy investment,” Sooyoon said, and paused for a second to look at her. “Do you know anyone in L.A.?”

  
  
  
  
  


Later that night, Yubin opened their conversation and typed, _Hey, can I ask you something?_

 _hiii ^^_ The reply was startlingly fast, as usual. _of courseee_

Yubin did the math and tsked. It was late over there.

 _Ha, why are you up_ , she texted, and smiled a little when Yoohyeon’s typing bubble popped up again.

 _I… might be moving to L.A._ , Yubin typed, and hit send before she could think too much about it. _Want to meet?_

  
  
  
  
  


“Thank you,” Yubin says, English thin but determined as she opens the door and steps out. The heavy summer air is thick around her, settling into her skin. She takes a deep breath.

 _Just got here_ , she texts Yoohyeon, and begins to walk the block to the museum entrance. The sky is pale blue, darkening in the early evening.

 _oh, yay !!!_ , comes the reply. _dongie will be out front. she has orange hair. can’t miss her._

Dongie does have orange hair, and is dressed in a sharp red two-piece suit, blazer open over a sheer black corset top. “Hi,” she grins when Yubin approaches her, smile somehow still soft. “You must be Yubin.” Yubin is relieved that she speaks Korean.

“Yoohyeon talks a lot about you,” Dongie says as they weave through the crowd together to their seats, her heels clicking lightly on the pavement.

“Does she,” Yubin says, smiling, pretending to roll her eyes.

“Alllllll the time.” Dongie fake-rolls her eyes in return. “Oop.” She touches Yubin’s elbow lightly. “Photos.” Yubin looks up and sees the people with cameras beginning to look towards them.

“Smize,” Dongie says, and Yubin barely has time to set her face before the flashes come.

When they start walking again, Dongie turns her head to look at Yubin. “So what brings you here?”

“I do music,” Yubin says. “My manager said it would be a good move.”

“Right,” Dongie nods. “Yoohyeon mentioned that. But I wanted to know what brings you _here_ , today.”

There’s an empty space in the crowd just then, and as it opens up, Yubin sees it: the giant art installation out front, the rows of lampposts she’d read about online, that Yoohyeon had posted to Instagram what feels like forever ago, gently glowing into the now indigo sky.

“Wow,” Yubin murmurs.

“L.A., baby,” Dongie says, walking up to stand next to her, a little laugh in her voice, before she turns to look at Yubin again, eyes keen, inquisitive. “So?”

Yubin’s eyes flick down from the lampposts, but she stays facing forward as she considers the question. She sighs. “Yoohyeon,” she says, finally. “Yoohyeon is my friend.”

  
  
  
  
  


“I got the job,” Yoohyeon had said, over ramen at their place.

“Holy shit, Yoohyeon,” Yubin said. “That’s amazing, congratulations.” She hadn’t known what to say in the moment.

“Yeah…” Yoohyeon tilted her head a little. “I was nervous because I didn’t think my walk was that great, but… who knows, maybe they’re being nice.”

Yubin rolled her eyes. “ _Stop_ ,” she said, reaching out to shove her gently. “You got the job because you’re good at modeling, _and_ because you always look pretty.” She grinned — she could never help it — when Yoohyeon blushed a little, ducking her head.

Over the next month Yubin helped as Yoohyeon began to pack up her things. California seemed like a far place; _Los Angeles_ something that slid over the tongue like magic. Like if Yoohyeon went, it wouldn’t be sure that she would come back.

 _It’s your dream, isn’t it?_ Yubin thought, stupidly fond, watching Yoohyeon as she pulled a thick line of packing tape over a cardboard box, a funny little concentrating expression on her face. And Yubin reminded herself that it was, that L.A. was a good place for Yoohyeon to be, Yoohyeon who had worked so hard and watched shitty American T.V. with Yubin every night so she could speak English now with an almost invisible accent, who loved newness and freedom, who had enough charm to win over the whole world.

“Isn’t it weird,” Yoohyeon had said, her voice soft as they stood in her packed-up bedroom together, looking at the five boxes that were the result of it all.

Yubin turned her head slightly to look at her, raising her eyebrows.

“It’s just my life, in these five boxes. That’s it,” Yoohyeon said, eyes scanning the now empty room, looking a little glazed over. “Oh my God, I can’t believe I’m doing this.”

Yoohyeon had moved before — they had both moved before: from their little town to Seoul for college, from their freshman dorm to a shared apartment. This, though: this was an ocean.

Yubin slipped her hand into Yoohyeon’s. The gesture was natural, something they had done a million times, but it felt especially important now. “You’ll be fine,” she said, tamping down the pressure in the back of her throat, and gave Yoohyeon’s hand what she hoped was a comforting squeeze.

Yoohyeon blinked and turned to look at Yubin, something brimming in her eyes. “Oh, Yubin,” she said, voice almost a whisper, smile sad on her face. “What am I going to do without you?”

“You’ll manage,” Yubin smiled weakly, because that was all there was to say, and pulled her in for a hug so Yoohyeon couldn’t see her face. “I know you can.”

Of course, it was only after they had said goodbye at the airport, Yoohyeon’s parents walking out together and Yubin taking a moment to stand at the little balcony overpass in the skylit terminal, surrounded by the smell of coffee, that she began to cry.

  
  
  
  
  


Now, though, there’s the show, the runway stretching out before the old cast iron street lamps, the sky deep and dark above. They’re front-row; Dongie is sitting on Yubin’s right, her friend Gahyeon next to her, alternating between giggle-whispering to each other and looking at their phones. Yubin feels a pang of loneliness, but she doesn’t really want to socialize.

Someone’s arm wraps around Yubin’s shoulders from the left, and Yubin is ready to tell them off until she turns and sees — _“Yoohyeon?”_ Yoohyeon only laughs and throws her arms around her, and suddenly Yubin’s face is in her soft hair.

“Glad you made it,” Yoohyeon whispers into Yubin’s neck, grinning as she pulls back from the hug.

“Can you even be here?” Yubin says, half in disbelief. “The show starts in, like,” — she glances at her watch — “Fifteen minutes?”

Yoohyeon huffs with fake exasperation, a smile playing at her face. “Always time to see my best friend.” Yubin can faintly feel Dongie and Gahyeon’s eyes shift to them. Yoohyeon leans out of the chair to wave at them and then leans back, eyes settling again onto Yubin. “But hey,” she says, and her voice is softer. “I’ve missed you.”

“I’ve missed you too,” Yubin says, warmth blossoming suddenly across her face. “You look… good.”

And she does — delicate silver earrings shifting like moonlight in the space between her neck and shoulder, the sparkly baby pink couture-y thing peeking out from underneath her coat. Simple makeup, her muted grey-blonde hair half-pulled into a braid that wraps over her head, the rest falling over her shoulders. Yubin realizes how much she’s missed her face, in person, not over Facetime or in photos sent over text.

“They keep putting me in pink,” Yoohyeon grumbles.

Yubin grins. “I mean, it does bring out your eyes.”

She’s missed the way Yoohyeon blushes, too.

  
  
  
  
  


She’s beautiful.

Yubin sees her walk and it just — feels surreal, that Yoohyeon’s here, that she’s here, that they’re both chasing their dreams, lucky enough to be in this exact place at this exact moment. That the universe conspired it.

Yubin sees her walk, surrounded by camera flashes, the audience quiet, enraptured, and thinks about in college when they would curl up on the couch together and look out the window on rainy days, Yubin scrawling lyrics into her notebook, Yoohyeon thumbing through one of the books that lived on the shelf of their shared library.

Yubin sees her walk and the realization falls overwhelmingly, suddenly, into place, with a sense of finality: the last ridge on a key that settles into the lock with a satisfying _click_ and, with a small twist, opens the door.

  
  
  
  
  


“You can do it,” Yoohyeon had said, always. “I know you can.”

“It’s funny,” Yubin said, chuckling a little. “I have all these ideas, but when I actually sit down, it feels like they just disappear.”

Yoohyeon had smiled then, her eyes curving. She peered up from where she was cupping her mug of tea, the steam floating into her face. “It’s about being ready, I think.”

  
  
  
  
  


The afterparty is loud, Gahyeon and Dongie leading Yubin through the crowd, Yubin somehow being the one to hold onto Yoohyeon. There are so many _people_. The air is muggy with sweat, confetti falling from the ceiling, the hall dimly lit and smelling of alcohol.

They’ve been here for about thirty minutes, and Yubin is beginning to tire.

“Oh my God, we should go talk to them,” Gahyeon says now, holding her champagne flute conspiratorially as she points towards a small group off in the distance that Yubin doesn’t recognize.

Dongie cranes her head to look and seems to. “Oooooh, you’re so right.” She turns to Yubin. “Wanna come?”

Yoohyeon’s hand is curling into Yubin’s, which would be amusing given her height if Yubin had the energy to laugh. “Ah,” Yubin says, and glances at Yoohyeon, who looks a little sleepy. “Yoohyeon?”

She jolts, blinking. “Oh, sorry. Five A.M. call time this morning.”

Yubin turns her head towards Yoohyeon to hide her face from Dongie and Gahyeon and mouths, _Do you want to leave?_ Yoohyeon’s quick nod is enough.

Yubin twines their fingers together before she realizes it. “I think we might actually head out,” she says, “But you guys should have fun.” And then she’s tugging gently at Yoohyeon’s hand as Yoohyeon follows, wobbling on her stilettos, and they’re weaving back out through the crowd, nodding at the bouncer and squeezing through the exit, until they’re standing outside again in the warm L.A. night, Yoohyeon leaning over Yubin as she whisper-recites the address of the hotel room her agency booked for her into Yubin’s ear.

  
  
  
  
  


“It will be different,” Yoohyeon had said, as they dragged in the cardboard shipping boxes to assemble. “That’s scary.” She’d always been the one out of them to brave saying the thing, outright.

 _I don’t know what to do with that_ , Yubin had thought. “I guess everything always changes,” she finally said, the words hanging lightly, dissipating, in the air.

Yoohyeon had met her eyes over the top of the box, her expression curious, amused. “But that’s what makes it interesting, right?”

  
  
  
  
  


“Yoohyeon,” Yubin murmurs, nudging her where she’s falling asleep on Yubin’s shoulder. They’ve reached Yoohyeon’s hotel. This had been the plan: Yubin would go to the show, meet up with Yoohyeon, and then probably call an Uber back to her Airbnb. Yoohyeon is a little tipsy though, now. Yubin feels a sense of protectiveness about it.

“Mm?” Yoohyeon blinks awake. “Oh, ar’we here.” She yawns when Yubin nods. “Man,” Yoohyeon grins toothily, “You’re so nice. Usually I have to take care of myself,” and Yubin doesn’t know what to do with that, either.

“C’mon,” she says, slipping her hand along Yoohyeon’s arm to ease her out of the car. “Thank you,” she calls to the Uber driver as they slide out and close the door behind them. She feels like her English is getting a little more confident.

Yoohyeon’s head lolls onto Yubin’s neck as they walk into the lobby, as Yubin asks her for the floor in the elevator, as Yoohyeon digs into her clutch for the key card in front of her room and presses it into Yubin’s hand, her mouth smelling faintly of champagne when she whispers _Thank you_ , her voice small like it’s hiding a secret.

  
  
  
  
  


**@yooooooohyeon_97** “this is a song to you” ♡ this is the perfect mood-booster, dami is so cool !!! stream and support ☟☟

> **_@DAMI_OFFICIAL_ ** _My first single “To You” is OUT NOW and available on all major platforms! Thank you to @HSooyoon and the team for all the hard work_ ☈

**@lyb_panda** @yooooooohyeon_97 We live in the same apartment… 

**@yooooooohyeon_97** @lyb_panda i fail to see your point !!!

  
  
  
  


Yoohyeon seems to sober up after Yubin makes her wash her face and take off her makeup. She ambles barefoot back into the room wearing the short glittery dress she’d changed into for the afterparty, stilettos kicked off within a second of stumbling into the room. Bare-faced, she’s still pretty, her features round and familiar, the face Yubin has known for the past god-knows-how-many years of her life.

Yubin watches as Yoohyeon trudges over to her open suitcase (green) and drags out a pair of sweatpants, tugging them on and hiking her dress up. “Ah, shit,” Yoohyeon groans, and Yubin snaps to attention. “Can you unzip me? This dress is impossible.”

Yubin startles a little but pretends to roll her eyes and nod. Nothing’s changed, she tells herself, as she gets up and walks over to where Yoohyeon is standing, dress comically hiked up over her top half and sweatpants below. _Just had a giant epiphany that might irrevocably change our relationship if I ever voice it is all._

The clasp at the top of Yoohyeon’s dress sits right between her shoulder blades. It’s simple enough. Yubin undoes it, hands careful, and the dress falls open around Yoohyeon’s back like a flower. Yubin glances away, suddenly self-conscious, as Yoohyeon grabs a sweatshirt from her suitcase and slides it on.

“There,” Yoohyeon says, all smiley. “All done.” She yawns and jumps on Yubin in a hug. She smells good. When she pulls back, Yubin recognizes the sweatshirt.

“Shit,” she says. “You brought that?” she asks, thinking of the matching one in her suitcase at the Airbnb.

“Yeah, duuuuuh,” Yoohyeon says. “I sleep in it all the time.”

“Oh,” Yubin says. They’re just staring at each other now. Time seems to do that stupid thing where it slows down, the world condensing into the channel of their eyes. Yubin takes a breath. “Y — ” she starts, but then Yoohyeon’s stomach rumbles.

They both look down at it before Yoohyeon collapses into laughter, falling back onto Yubin’s shoulders. Yubin feels relief and nerves in equal parts.

“Hm, I guess I didn’t really eat,” Yoohyeon giggles. “There’s an In-N-Out around the corner, wanna go?”

“In… N… Out?” Yubin says, repeating it slowly, and Yoohyeon’s grin widens.

“We are _so_ going.”

  
  
  
  
  


They stumble into the In-N-Out just past midnight, Yubin marveling at the white and red, the neon signs everywhere.

“Ooh, you have to try the animal fries,” Yoohyeon says, tugging at Yubin’s hand. “Is there anything you wanted in particular?”

Yubin shakes her head wordlessly, still taking everything in. “Go for it.” She watches Yoohyeon order in English, her mouth curving perfectly around the words. She repeats them in her head: the gliding piano trill of _please_ , the soft thwack of _thank you_.

Yubin looks at Yoohyeon across the table as they wait, rumpled and sleepy in her hoodie, until the buzzer beeps and Yubin jumps up to get the tray. It’s — really good, honestly: the warmth of the food, the fluorescence of the lights, the comfortable buzz of the people around them. It’s just a Friday night.

  
  
  
  
  


“Yoohyeon,” Yubin says, as they walk out into the parking lot that connects the In-N-Out to the back of Yoohyeon’s hotel, Yoohyeon holding the chocolate milkshake she hasn’t finished in one hand and a paper sleeve of leftover fries in the other.

“Mm?” Yoohyeon turns, eyes curious, eyebrows raising in a way that lets Yubin know she has her full attention. She’s still so pretty like this, her bangs peeking out from underneath her hoodie, her body illuminated only by the street lamps in the parking lot; another fashion show. It’s quiet out here.

Yubin suddenly can’t think. She feels flushed, like her heart is thrumming in her chest. It’s the alcohol, she thinks. Never mind that she barely had one flute of champagne, everyone laughing around her, Yoohyeon taking her hand and pulling her onto the dance floor. _God…_

“Yoohyeon,” Yubin says, trying, desperately, to gather her thoughts, and she thinks she almost sees a flash of — hope? — across Yoohyeon’s face. “You — mean a lot to me.”

“Oh,” Yoohyeon says, her face an expression of surprised delight, and she smiles, just a little, as she steps closer. “You mean a lot to me too,” she says, and Yubin knows her heart isn’t going to slow down any time soon.

Yoohyeon tastes like chocolate and a little bit of salt, warm and light, and the feeling of something finally settling into place.

  
  
  
  
  


The next morning, Yubin wakes to a soft breeze tickling her right shoulder. She sits up, dragging a hand through her hair, and notices that the sliding door to the balcony is open, the curtains fluttering a bit with the wind. Yoohyeon is outside, curled up on one of the chairs, reading. She looks up and smiles.

Yubin walks over to the ledge of the door and leans against it. “Thanks for letting me sleep over,” she says, a little awkwardly.

Yoohyeon laughs, like she can’t believe her, the sound bright and melodious. “Of course,” she says. “Thanks for staying.”

It feels right.

Yubin washes up in slow motions, opening up a hotel toothbrush, stealing a little bit of Yoohyeon’s cleanser, hoping it won’t break her out too much.

When she walks back into the room, Yoohyeon is still there on the balcony, bathed in light, humming a little.

Yubin smiles a little bit at the image and walks to where she put her jacket last night, taking out the tiny notebook she keeps in the chest pocket. She opens it to a clean page and begins to write.

_HOME IS A FEELING_

  
  
  
  
  


DAMI - HOME Lyrics | Genius Lyrics

**HOME**

_DAMI_

Featuring _Yoohyeon Kim_

Produced by _DAMI, Yoohyeon Kim_

Album _HOME - Single_

About “HOME”

“HOME” is a song about finding belonging in your early twenties. The song features vocals by lyricist and rapper DAMI’s longtime friend, model and singer Yoohyeon Kim. DAMI said of the song during an interview with KWAVE 88:

DAMI: _I wrote this song at a really uncertain time in my life. I had just moved to L.A. from Seoul, and everything was new and scary. But I remember on the very first night, going to this fashion show Yoohyeon invited me to and meeting all these people and waking up the next morning just feeling like somehow, everything was going to be okay._

_Home, for me, isn’t really a place, or a person, either. It’s a feeling. And, for me, it being a feeling kind of — frees it, you know? From being tied to things that might be out of your control. Because it’s about your feeling._

_I think I just want this song to be a reminder to everyone out there that your home might be out there, but it’s also in yourself. I believe in you. You can do it._

**Author's Note:**

> kaye [@kwo3o](https://twitter.com/kwo3o) on twitter was commissioned by ephe to draw this lovely piece for this fic! link to their original tweet [here](https://twitter.com/kwo3o/status/1282442343103098880). commission them!  
>   
> 
> 
> \- [incheon airport](https://cdn.theculturetrip.com/wp-content/uploads/2018/04/incheonintnl.jpg)  
> \- the lights at lacma, [chris burden’s installation “urban light”](https://pbs.twimg.com/media/ES7acEbXsAEPKpj.jpg:large)  
> \- [a lock and key mechanism because i think they’re fun](https://f.fastcompany.net/multisite_files/fastcompany/imagecache/inline-large/inline/2013/10/3020902-inline-how-a-lock-works.gif)  
> \- [they really do have couple sweatshirts](https://7-dreamers.tumblr.com/post/156564374888/170129-yoohyeon-fancafe-update-nihao)  
> \- yes, yubin’s manager producer mentor is korean rockstar (and fellow 97liner) [hwang sooyoon](https://www.instagram.com/sleeep__sheeep/?hl=en), who you should definitely look up  
> \- yes, yubin’s song being called “to you” is a play on 2yoo  
> \- yes, yoohyeon’s twitter username has seven o’s in it i did read h*mestuck  
> \- yes, when yubin says “i guess everything always changes” she is inadvertently referencing [their cover of “spring day”](https://twitter.com/dlighz/status/1143530352985509888), which contains the following lines:
> 
> _Did you change?  
>  If not, then I changed  
> Enduring this flow of time, I guess change must happen again  
> It must be like that for everyone, right?  
> _
> 
> edit: was belatedly informed by [@2pristin on twt](https://twitter.com/2pristin/status/1291977822605639682?s=20) that the song “nova” by local natives is literally this fic, so [listen to this](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=AKqKh38SAnU) this if you are interested
> 
> _You were going crazy in the lobby  
>  Little champagne and you just lose your mind  
> Shaking the contents of your bloodstream  
> Running till the hotel hallways collide  
>   
> What would we do if we had the time?  
> Ooh  
> You look at me and say, “Why me?”  
> That’s easy_
> 
> find me on twitter [@queqiaos](https://twitter.com/queqiaos)  
> tweet version of fic lives [here](https://twitter.com/queqiaos/status/1281824508656136192). interact as you wish!
> 
> -
> 
> This story is part of the LLF Comment Project, which was created to improve communication between readers and authors. This author invites and appreciates feedback, including:
> 
>   * Short comments
>   * Long comments
>   * Questions
>   * “<3” as extra kudos
>   * Reader-reader interaction
> 

> 
> This author responds to comments! If you don’t want a reply for any reason, feel free to sign your comment with “whisper” and I will appreciate it but not respond!


End file.
